Sports and Christianity have been linked since New Testament times. The apostle Paul encouraged first century believers to "run in such a way as to get the prize" (1 Corinthians 9:24). In the twenty centuries since then, countless numbers of athletes from various sports have taken Paul's advice quite literally, both on and off the field of play, and many have openly acknowledged their belief in Christ.

In fact, there are an astonishing number of professional atheletes who are publicly professing their faith in one way or another. And two of them--Tim Tebow, quarterback of the Denver Broncos, and Los Angeles Doger pitching ace Clayton Kershaw--are getting a lot of attention from the media, albeit for different reasons. These two 23-year-olds are also demonstrating that there's no "one size fits all" approach to telling the watching world that you're a Christian.

There is a moment in “Moneyball” that will always stick with me.  In the scene, a character is being offered a contract to play professional baseball for an unrevealed amount of money by MLB talent scouts.  If not the MLB, the character also has a full ride scholarship to Stanford sitting on the table.  The scene takes place in a kitchen, amongst a standard, common looking middle class home, with parents sitting beside their son trying to figure out what the best choice is.  The sense of realism – everything from the unfamiliar actors at the table, to the matter of fact way in which the scouts make their offer made all the big business, flash, and politics of sports become washed away in light of a confused looking young man deciding the fate of his life.

The Twitterverse exploded Wednesday night when what should have been a perfect game thrown by the virtually unknown pitcher, Armando Galarraga, was inexplicably denied by a blown call from umpire Jim Joyce.

With only one out to go in his quest for a perfect game (that’s when you retire all 27 batters you face in a row), Galarraga induced a difficult grounder to his first baseman, Miguel Cabrera, who played the groundball nicely and threw it to Galarraga who was scrambling to cover first base. Although the play appeared to be close, it was obvious (even to the naked eye), that the throw had beaten the runner to the bag and Galarraga got his foot on the bag before the runner. However, umpire Joyce called the baserunner safe, taking away the perfect game, the no-hitter, and quickly stamping his identity as the umpire who stole a historic night from Galarraga, the Detroit Tigers and Major League Baseball.

I’ve been watching a lot of baseball this fall, enjoying the simple beauty of the bat vs. the ball. A friend told me once that during a typical game, the baseball is actually in play for only seven minutes. The rest of the time is made up of pitching adjustments, beer commercials, and spitting.

I was watching the Yankees play the Phillies in game six of the recent World Series, as Yankee reliever Marte faced the heart of the defending World Champions’ lineup. What struck me was the drama of the pause, the excruciating moment between wind up and swing that happens every inning. Some pauses are easy to face, like when Mariano Rivera is pitching. Some are incredibly tense, as everyone watching waits to see if disaster or salvation comes from the result of the pitch. It’s what makes baseball so much like life.

I just came back from a few days of vacationing in St. Louis, Missouri. Not only was it nice to visit my old stomping grounds with my two sons, but it ‘s always nice to wear my St. Louis Cardinals cap and not be the only one.

Here in New York City, I’ll frequently get a smirk from Mets fans, but in St. Louis, one acknowledging nod can lead to a 10-minute conversation about pitching assignments, Tony Larussa’s ability to manage a lineup and, of course, the amazing prowess of Albert Pujols. 

Baseball fever is at an all-time high in St. Louis. As of this posting, the Cardinals are sitting atop the number one spot in the National League Central Division and we have two premier pitchers (Chris Carpenter and Adam Wainwright) and arguably the best hitter in the last decade (the aforementioned Pujols).

OK, I am not a huge sports fan, but when I looked at the news today, it was impossible not to see the news about Manny Ramirez.  When I read this article on espn.com I couldn't help but ask a couple questions.  I mean seriously, steroids?  Why?  This guy is the highest paid(or one of them) in Major League Baseball, and the Dodgers fought so hard to get him, and he screws it all up with this. 

To be honest, I have an incredibly hard time with the sheer ammount of money that this guy is paid for playing a sport.  I also have a problem with the fact that he arrogantly held out for so long trying to negotiate for a higher salary.  Personally, I wish things were different in professional sports, and that there were some sort of salary cap.  However, I don't make the rules, and I don't really expect things will get changed.